


Escape

by generalsleepy



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Drowning, Gen, Interrogation, M/M, Minor Raoul de Chagny/The Persian, Torture, Unrequited Love, Waterboarding, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsleepy/pseuds/generalsleepy
Summary: After the Daroga helps Christine and Raoul escape Paris, Erik tortures him for their location.





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConvenientAlias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/gifts).



> For the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt "Water Torture" with the Daroga.

“Why do you care about them so much?” Erik growled in Hamid’s ear.

Hamid turned his head and stared at him. He swallowed, not speaking until he had his breathing evened out sufficiently. “You shouldn’t even have to ask that question, Erik.”

“It’s none of your concern!” The growl rose to almost a shriek. He clutched the edge of the table in a white-knuckle grip. He was still visibly shaking.

“Erik.” Hamid shook his head slowly. “Of course, it’s my concern.”

“Why?! He slammed his fists on the table. His anger was on the border of childish and monstrous. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?! You stupid, meddling fool!”

He snatched up the soaking cloth and pulled it over Hamid’s face. There was no way that Hamid could stop his heart from pounding in blind terror, as he heard the metal bucket creaking and the water sloshing. His muscles instinctively tensed against the leather straps holding his limbs in place, even though he knew it was useless.

Of all of Erik’s talents, the infliction of pain might be his greatest. Of course, he would leave nothing to chance.

The knowledge that he wasn’t drowning did nothing to mitigate the rush of agony and fear as water sloshed over his face. He could do nothing but lay there and take the torture.

After what felt like hours, the water stopped falling, and then the cloth was pulled away. Hamid gasped and choked.

“Where are Christine Daaé and Raoul de Chagny?”

“Erik, I will not tell you. If you are prepared to kill me, then simply do so.” He opened his eyes.

“Do you think that I will kill you, Daroga?” The rage suddenly leached out of Erik’s voice. His expression was thoughtful. He picked up a fresh towel and wiped Hamid’s face.

“I’ve seen you kill many men. As of late, you have done things of which even I did not think you were capable.” He didn’t need to specify the incident with the chandelier: the targeted assassination of an innocent woman, simply to further his own aims. That was in addition to kidnapping a young woman to force her into marriage. No one would have ever mistaken Erik for a good man, but this was something more.

No, he didn’t doubt that Erik had reached the point where he would murder the closest thing that he had to a friend.

Erik smoothed the cloth over Daroga’s hair and let out a sigh. “I have no desire to kill you.”

“Torturing me, though, you have no problem with.”

“You’ve forced my hand.”

“Erik, please. Let those two go. All that they want is to be free and to decide the course of their own lives. How can you deny them that?”

His lip curled in indignation. “I love her. She would have learned to love me, if _he_ hadn’t led her astray.”

Hamid had spent hours attempting to reason with Erik, begging him to acknowledge the blatant signs that Christine did not want to be his wife, regardless of whether she had the option of another man. He didn’t mention that the Vicomte had not “led her astray.” He had given every sign that he was a good man, and the young soprano had responded by returning his love. Raoul hadn’t made a demand, and Christine had made a choice of her own.

He was almost certain now that Erik would never understand that. He had willfully blinded himself. When it came to Mademoiselle Daaé, whatever reality was most comforting for him was the one that he would accept.

“You know what I have to say on the matter. Let’s not waste any more time. We’re moving in circles. I won’t tell you where to find Raoul and Christine. You won’t agree with me that they deserve to be left alone. So. The point has come for you to decide how you want this to end.”

Hamid didn’t want to die; he knew that he had more to do with his life. But, he also knew that protecting those two young people was a cause worth laying his life down for. If Erik killed him now, he was satisfied that he had done enough, lived enough. He took a deep breath and met Erik’s hawkish gaze with his own calm one.

Even from behind the mask, he could make out the confusion on Erik’s face. Hamid realized that he had no idea how this was meant to end. His mind was dominated and dulled by the fantasy of a happily-ever-after with Christine. He imagined that every obstacle in his way would be easily pushed aside until he gained the object of his desire: the prize to which he already felt entitled. He couldn’t think clearly, even including whether or not to kill Hamid if he couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Hamid.” For the first time, there was a needy, almost whining, tone to Erik’s voice. “Remember everything that I’ve done for you. Remember all of our years together. Don’t throw this all away.”

“Erik, I will not tell you where to find them.”

Erik let out an almost bestial growl. “You fool! You absolute fool! Why are you doing this?!” He slammed a fist into Hamid’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and shook him, smacking his head on the table hard enough he saw stars. “Why are they so important to you?!”

Hamid had given up. He wasn’t going to bother trying to reason with Erik any longer. He’d made his point, and there was nothing else he could say that would change anything. Either Erik would kill him or not. Either way, Hamid was ready. He only looked steadily into up into his former friend’s eyes.

Face curled in a bestial scowl, Erik ground the heels of his hands into his temples. He paced, now huffing and pouting like a frustrated child. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He yanked a knife from his an inner pocket. The candlelight glinted off the blade, and Hamid’s muscles tensed involuntarily.

This could be it. Erik could be poised to slit his throat, to rain down a flurry of a stabs to his chest and stomach. He wasn’t certain, but he also accepted it was a possibility.

He shut his eyes. Out of the darkness he conjured up the image of a beautiful young face, smooth pale skin, soft blond hair, blue eyes wide and full of innocence, slender limbs, and a fair little mustache. The memory of a boy who, from the first time he laid eyes on him, had dominated his thoughts. A young man he longed to touch and hold and protect from the world. A man who already had someone to do that for him. A man who saw him as nothing but a friend and ally.

A man who wanted to leave and never come back—who had asked him for help escaping. And Hamid has accepted that. It was almost as torturous as the mock drowning, but when he heard that the boy didn't want him, he let him go.

He could have fought like Erik did. He could have decided that he was entitled to another person's love and demand and force. He wouldn't though. He would never even consider the possibility.

However, he would be content to die with the image of the beautiful, perfect young man in his mind's eye.

The blow didn't come, though. He felt Erik lunge forward, then before he could figure out what was happening, the ropes around his wrists were severed. The feeling hadn't come back enough for Hamid to move his hands, while Erik did the same to the ropes holding his ankles in place. Erik grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and hauled him up and off the table. His body hit the ground like a sack of flour

Hamid started to struggle to hands and knees, but Erik yanked him up by the hair. He had a brief sight of a basin of water before his head was being forced into it.

The combination of shock and cold made him gasp in a mouthful of water. He thrashed and frantically grabbed at Erik's hands. Would Erik really kill him this way? Would he really insist on making it this slow and painful?

After several hellish seconds that dragged by like hours, his head was pulled up. Hamid desperately coughed and gasped, spitting up icy water. It took him a while to realize that Erik was speaking.

"You idiot!" he wailed. "You great booby! Why do you have to do this?!" 

"Erik, please..."

"Just tell me, Daroga. Tell me where they've gone. Please," Erik's voice was softer, almost calm. "For me."

"Erik." He coughed. "No."

Erik made a furious, strangled sound in the back of this throat. He threw Hamid to the ground so that his head bounced off of the stone. His vision was still filled with spinning lights as Erik stomped away and slammed the door shut behind him.

For a moment, Hamid lay there, shivering and waiting for his head to clear. Erik had chosen not to kill him, even at the apex of his rage. Perhaps that meant he was still convinced he could torture the answer out of him. Hamid could believe that of him; he could believe that Erik wouldn't give up. Either Hamid would eventually have to make up a lie to buy himself time, or Erik would go too far in his madness and kill him whether he intended to or not. Or, perhaps, the cloud of madness would pass.

Perhaps. Hamid didn't have much hope of that, though.

He shut his eyes and remembered the sweet smile that had said farewell to him, as he bundled the two into a hansom. 

_"Thank you, monsieur. Thank you for everything. God bless you."_

Hamid could withstand this. For what he knew was right, he would resist whatever Erik's madness threw at him.


End file.
